


Love You to Death

by tomlucitor



Category: Color Me Killer: Honeymouth
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Stockholm Syndrome, i love this game too much not to nab the first fanfic medal of honor, might edit tags later cuz honestly idk where this is going but I Love It, same warnings as Color Me Killer apply
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:01:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27466096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomlucitor/pseuds/tomlucitor
Summary: After an unfortunate bike riding accident, Ash Spectre finds herself at the hands of Imre, a seemingly sweet man with a dark side.
Relationships: Imre/Original Character
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19





	1. Prologue

_Everything hurts…_

_Shouldn’t you be used to that by now?_

Sitting bolt upright, Ash peered around the room. She nearly could have mistaken it for her own. Dark, stuffed raccoon, a limp fox, nearly empty? Sounds like her. But this was not her bedroom. She was not home.

Pushing through the blinding pain, Ash attempted to recollect what had happened before she got here. She was riding her bike, something she was fairly new at. And then…

_Ah. Right._

Wincing at the sight of her bandaged arm, she gingerly attempted to move it, only to be met with searing pain. She cried out, a rare feat for herself, and slumped back into the bed she was so tenderly laid into.

Where was she?

“Hello?” She called. Heavy footsteps lumbered her way and she instantly regretted her decisions.

“You’re awake!” A large man said as he opened the door. He let himself in and Ash took in the sight of him; he was a hulking man, standing over six foot tall and about three-quarters of the width of the doorway itself, arms thick like tree limbs. He was… a sight for sore eyes. But that didn’t take away the fact that she was in what was presumed to be his home.

“How did you sleep?”

Ash paused. Why was he worried about how she slept…

“Fine.” She lied curtly, earning a look of concern from the man. He sheepishly held a small white pill out to her, earning what she could only imagine was a look of distaste from herself. He cleared his throat.

“P-painkiller,” he stammered. “Take it with the hot cocoa…?”

“What h—oh. Okay?” She looked to her side to find a steamy mug. Going against her own volition, she accepted the medication. Seemed innocent enough, despite looking more like her usual melatonin pill than a painkiller… Whatever. If this was how she died, she’d take it. She gingerly sipped the hot cocoa and reveled in the syrupy sweet taste. Was that caramel?! Oh, she was weak for caramel.

“I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself yet.” He said, shaking Ash from her stupor. She gave him a look. “I… My name is Imre.”

“Imre? Nice. I’m Ash.”

He appeared flustered for whatever reason.

“Ash.” He repeated as if he were savoring the taste of her name on his tongue. “Tell me how you feel, Ash.”

“My whole body is throbbing.” She said sharply. His face appeared to genuinely fall for her words. “I have chronic pain already so breaking my arm is fucking great.”

“Ah! Um… I’m so sorry to hear.” Imre sputtered, eyes wide. Was he… surprised that she said ‘fuck’? Maybe she was being too brash… After all, he did presumably take her in after getting a fucking concussion.

“I saw you hit that tree. I tried bandaging you up to the best of my ability, but it looks like your arm is broken. I’m sorry…” Imre trailed off. Why did he look so damn sad?

“It isn’t your fault!” Ash chirped, resting her good hand on the one he had placed upon her knee. He jerked a little, eyes the size of dinner plates. Had this man never been touched before?

_Oof._

“Right.. Um, do you mind if I check your arm, Ash?” He paused, noticing the suspicion in her eyes. “I want to make sure it’s wrapped properly.”

… Eh. He seemed harmless enough. She nodded and he got to work almost a little too quickly, cradling her arm like it was made of glass. His eyes glazed the longer he held her arm and Ash squinted.

“Um.” She interrupted, sending a jolt through Imre. “How’s it look?” 

“How does what— _oh._ Uh, fine.” He recoiled a bit at his own dumb statement. “What am I saying? It doesn’t look fine at all. It’s broken.”

Ash sighed. That… figured. This would happen to her. How would she work?!

“You look like you’re in a lot of pain.” Imre crooned. “Please, get some more rest. Take all the time you need.”

Ash blinked. She wasn’t sure why, but she trusted Imre. Everything she’d ever learned in life taught her never to trust men, strangers or not, but there was something about his sympathetic gaze and kind tone that melted her icy walls down a bit.

“Thank you, Imre. I could use some sleep.”

She adjusted herself a bit and Imre pulled the covers up to her chest, brushing lightly against it in the process, which appeared to scare him a lot more than it did her. He locked her in a terrified gaze for a moment before scurrying out of the room. Ash quirked a brow, but was much too tired to care about anything at all. Laying on her uninjured side, she did surprised herself yet again by drifting right to sleep.


	2. Prelude to Agony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ash finds out a little more about Imre.

Ash awoke to the sound of the bedroom door creaking open.

Imre had a bright smile on his face as he walked in, shutting the door behind him as usual. She sat up as best as she could.

“Good morning, Ash!” He chided. Ash noticed that he was holding a tray. “I made you breakfast.”

She blinked stupidly. Why was he being so nice to her?

“I hope I didn’t wake you up…” He trailed off, a slight frown on his tan face. Ash shook her head. No use in being rude to someone who was going the extra mile for her. Her breakfast looked absolutely perfect; pancakes and fruit, a nice glass of water, and more painkillers. Though again, the painkiller didn’t look like anything she’d ever taken in her years of chronic pain. Maybe it was prescription? Regardless, she smiled gratefully at him and began digging in.

…

Was he just gonna sit there and watch her?

“Um. Where did you learn to cook? This is really good.”

A blush dusted Imre’s cheeks. He looked to the floor sheepishly and Ash felt a little pang of warmth in her heart. Why did this random man have to be so adorable?

“My mother taught me everything I know about cooking.”

_FUCK, MY HEART._

“She taught you well then, Imre.” Ash cooed, earning a flustered huff from the larger man.

“That means so much. Thank you!” He paused for a long while, allowing her to unceremoniously scarf down the rest of her breakfast. “Can… I check your arm again?”

Ash blinked, syrup dribbling stupidly down her chin. She quickly wiped it away. For a moment she had forgotten why she was here; this wasn’t a date, she was here because she was injured and needed to heal. Nodding shyly, Ash allowed him to move her tray to the side and once again gingerly cradle her arm.

“Does it hurt when I touch it?” Asked Imre as he applied the gentlest of pressure to her arm. Ash shook her head. “Good.”

He slid his way down to her wrist and Ash instantly felt her cheeks heat up. Those were… sensitive, to say the least. He ghosted his fingers over the tender flesh and she shivered, becoming horribly aware that her nipples were stiff beneath her thin tank top.

“It hurts there.” She lied. If she’d told him the truth that he’d found one of her weird erogenous zones he probably would have combusted on the spot. He recoiled immediately.

“I’m sorry.” He said sweetly, placing his hands politely into his lap. “But good news! It looks like you’re healing.”

_Already?_ Ash had never broken a bone before, but from what she’d heard, they take quite awhile to heal.

“That means I can go back to work soon!” She chirped. “Oh gods, what day is it? I work three days this week…”

Imre appeared… saddened, to say the least, by her statement. He looked around as if for something to say, but found nothing.

“Let me take your plate.” He said quietly. Ash quirked a brow at him as he gently picked up the tray. She watched him as he left the room without another word and guilt flooded her conscious. Was it too soon to mention leaving? He was taking such good care of her after all. She wanted to stay in touch after this was all over. He may be a bit clingy, but having someone actually give a shit about her for once was brand new territory. It was nice.

She wondered where her belongings were. The phone she’d taken with her, her keys, her bank card and ID… It may be worth asking, so she could update her friends on her situation.

After a while of pondering her situation, Imre entered the room again. He appeared to be hiding something behind his back.

“Imre! Hey, did you see any of my stuff when I fell?” She asked. No response. “Um.. Like, a cell phone? Cards? Keys with about a dozen keychains?”

He stared sadly at her. She felt her stomach begin to churn.

“Imre… What’s wrong?”

He looked ready to cry.

“Don’t be scared, okay?”

_Oh. Oh, this is how it ends._

“Okay…?”

He finally pulls what he had from behind his back and Ash nearly lost her breakfast. It was a sledgehammer. She stared in horror, looking from the object and back up to his face.

“Ash, please… Don’t look at me like that.” He sobbed. “You’re hurting my feelings.”

“It hurts YOUR feelings?!” Ash roared, sitting up on her knees to get somewhat close to his height. “Are you fucking insane?!”

She attempted to grab the sledgehammer from him, but ended up falling over on her face like an idiot under the weight of her own torso. Imre stared at her with tears in his eyes, taking a few steps closer.

“ _Stay away from me!_ ” She screamed, backing up against the headboard and kicking her legs desperately.

“I don’t want you to get better!” Imre cried. It was almost as if this was harder for him than it was for Ash. “I-I can’t let you get better, I need you to stay with me! I don’t want to be alone again…”

She scrambled for something to say but only garbled curses and threats could come out as she thrashed on the bed.

“It wasn’t anything you did.” Imre said comfortingly. “I have to do this because I love you.”

…

“You LOVE ME?” She hissed, sitting still for once. He lifted the sledgehammer above his shoulder but Ash continued. “You met me _yesterday_! You’re fucking insane and I—”

Without letting her finish, Imre brought the sledgehammer down onto her leg, causing the bone to splinter and crack under its weight. Ash threw her head back and screamed bloody murder, making a sad attempt to grab the sledgehammer again, but it was yanked from her weak fingers.

“Just kill me you sick fuck!” She yelled, rolling over onto her good side. “Fuck my corpse if you want, just end me!”

Imre lifted the sledgehammer again and Ash cried out in pain, but nothing ever came of it. Instead he let the object slip from his fingers, crashing to the ground with a loud _bang_. Imre sobbed into his hands and Ash continued to scream at him, vague threats and vulgarities, until she dissolved into a fit of anguished, gross sobs herself. She let her body fall limp, if only for a moment, until tensing up again when strong arms wrapped around her.

He whispered something unintelligible to her, the same word over and over, and she felt no need to fight back. It was clear who was in control. Without saying another word, Imre left the room, leaving Ash to cry quietly into her pillow.

Why did these things happen to her?

“I thought you wanted to help me…” She whimpered. “I thought you were gonna protect me…”

She spent the night thinking of ways to escape. Should she even try? She had never had a broken bone before so she wasn’t sure how to handle having one, let alone plan an escape route around her entire left side being busted up. Maybe she should just give in. She was housed and fed for free, so what was the point of fighting? This guy genuinely cared for her, something she’d yet to experience in a man, so why try to get away? Why not cooperate?

_Maybe I should just sleep…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cant stop thinkin ab Imre I just want him to hold me in his bigass tree trunk arms AAAAaaaaAAAAAAAaAaAaAaAaAaAaAaAa-- anyway I hope youre all enjoying thus far! I wanted to write ab what it might b like if Imre encountered a more feral MC so :3 lmk if you have any suggestions!!!! dont be shy! the good stuff is coming soon I pwomise >:3c


	3. Withdrawal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ash meets Marcell.

_That god damn bedroom door…_

Ash furrowed her brows at the familiar squealing sound. She felt like hot garbage and the last thing she wanted was to see Imre, but he stood stupidly at the foot of her bed anyway.

“What do you want?” She said, softer than she would have liked thanks to her pounding head. He wordlessly sat another tray of food into her lap, a plate of something she didn’t recognize but smelled absolutely divine, with that same pill sitting beside it.

“That painkiller you’re giving me is useless.” She barked, sending a jolt of electricity straight to her skull. She cringed. “Please get me something else… My head hurts.”

She’d had chronic migraines since she was a tot, her life an unending, blurry void of pain days, lesser pain days, and the glorious pain-free day here and there. She was on medication to control them and, frankly, being off any of her medications was a recipe for disaster. She felt hollow, sleepless despite her hours of on and off rest, and she hurt all over. Never in her life had she wanted to die this badly.

“Are you mad at me?” Imre said suddenly, interrupting her as she took a bite. Ash slowly set her shaking hand down, staring at him with wide, vacant eyes.

“Of course I am!” She hissed, voice thick with hate despite its weakness. “I’m in horrible pain, Imre! I’m off all my medications and everything hurts! My leg, my arm, my head, my stomach, everything! I’m having nicotine withdrawals, withdrawals from my pills, I’m gonna lose my job for not showing up… You’re ruining my life!”

He flinched, not looking her in the eyes. He wringed his hands.

“I’m sor-“

“ **No you aren’t!** ” She growled, jabbing an accusatory finger in his direction. “Not yet you aren’t! Someone’s gonna come find me and you’ll be sorry when you rot in prison, just like you should!”

He stared at her, looking completely dumbfounded and maybe even a little worried. Perhaps he hadn’t fully thought through the idea of kidnapping and assaulting her with a weapon? He definitely seemed too soft to be doing any of this. If she had her left arm free, she’d maul his ass. Watching him scurry out of the room again, she felt…

Guilty?

Maybe it was because she was off her anti-psychotic, but watching Imre leave the room broke her heart. Ash clutched at her chest as if to close the open, bleeding void left by Imre’s absence. This wasn’t normal. She had to be having symptoms of Stockholm syndrome, that’s all. Who could blame her? He was cute, and caring, and in his own sick head, he loved her. That was enough to satiate her tender Borderline heart.

_What am I thinking?!_

Angrily scarfing down the last of her food, Ash threw the tray aside with a loud clatter. She winced at the noise and apparently so did Imre, because she heard a scared yelp from somewhere within the house.

How did he afford this place, anyway? He was almost always home from what she could tell, and it had to have at least two bedrooms. She could barely afford her studio apartment… With the jobs she likely didn’t have any more. How long had she been here?

Suddenly, the door swung open again. Ash looked up to see a younger man with messy hair standing in the doorway. They stared at each other for a moment before he said something that sounded like complete jibberish, but she eventually realized simply wasn’t English at all. Whoops.

“Who are you?” She asked, hoping to the gods that he was someone that could save her. He said something else and it clicked in her head that this was the same language Imre had spoken to her before. She sighed. They were related.

“Marcell!” Came Imre’s deep voice from behind the doorway. “Ash, this is my nephew, Marcell.”

Ash stayed silent, not really caring who was related to who here. The two chatted in whatever language they spoke (it sounded European, she concluded) for a long while before Ash rudely cleared her throat.

“Oh, Ash!” Imre said, as if he’d forgotten she was there. “I’m sorry. I hope you don’t mind, I wasn’t expecting Marcell today. What a surprise!”

She grimaced. Clearly Marcell wouldn’t give two shits about her situation. Imre excused himself to make dinner, leaving Ash alone with Marcell. It would be a little difficult to pass the time with such a language barrier, but she would certainly try.

“Hey, um… Do you understand English and you just can’t speak it?” She said gently, hoping not to seem rude. Marcell nodded curtly. “Okay! Well, I can tell you aren’t gonna be much help for my situation. You and Imre seem very close, so I may as well get to know you if I’m gonna die here.”

Marcell raised a brow. He didn’t seem interested at all… She had a habit of being too blunt, especially when she was upset.

“Um… Hey, here!” She opened up the bedside drawer and retrieved a book, one that she’d flipped through during some of her lonesome time here. “Does your uncle like shadow puppets?”

Marcell nodded again and took the book from her, turning on her bedside lamp. Ash cringed, but made no attempt to stop him. They fiddled with the book together for awhile, Marcell mimicking the shadow puppets almost perfectly each time and Ash making requests for different animals. Her first was a raccoon, but that was not featured in the book. She eventually requested a squirrel, which he performed surprisingly well.

The door opened after some time of this back-and-forth. Imre waltzed in, somehow balancing three plates on his arms, and smiled at Ash and Marcell.

“I hope I’m not interrupting!” He chided, handing off plates to the younger two. “You two have been in here for more than an hour. I suppose you’re getting along!”

Ash bit back a harsh snort. ‘Getting along’ with her captor’s nephew? That’s one way to sugar coat a situation. She began eating without waiting for a cue from the others, reveling in the taste of whatever was on her plate. She could definitely tell that there were potatoes in it, and some kind of cream sauce, too. Whatever it was, it was to die for. 

“So?” Imre said expectantly.

“It’s lovely.” Ash said flatly.

“I see you two found my book on shadow puppets!” Imre chirped, taking in a mouthful of food.

“Mmmhm.” Ash grumbled, earning a hard stare from Marcell. Was he expecting her to be nice to Imre?!

By the time the sun had gone down, the trio had finished their food. Ash had definitely eaten more than she should have, but gods, Imre knew how to cook.

“Thank you both so much for eating with me!” Imre cooed. “I couldn’t have imagined a better evening.”

That… Is sad.

The two men said their goodbyes to a very gruff Ash, who simply tried to go back to sleep after her meal. She heard not one, but two doors close. _How does he afford this place?!_

Ash sighed, finding a semi-comfortable position to rest in. _Might as well sleep. The only other thing in this room is a book on shadow puppets…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the fanfic gremlins have my hands tied to the keyboard oh god oh fuck hel;p me-- ALSO sorry for kinda avoiding when the boys speak Hungarian I dont know how to get the accented letters w/o copy pasting and Im too lazy for that HHBBBRRRRRRRR--


	4. Ambrosia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fate  
> /fāt/  
> noun: fate; plural noun: Fates; plural noun: the Fates  
> 1.  
>  the development of events beyond a person's control, regarded as determined by a supernatural power.

…

…..

…….

_Why does my skin feel like this?_

Shooting into a sitting position, Ash inspected her arm. It took her eyes a moment to adjust in the dark, but what she eventually saw…

“ _IMRE!_ ”

Her eyes locked with his and she briefly wondered how long he’d been standing there, but right now her mind was focused on other things. He rushed over to her, apologizing profusely, and she screamed in frustration.

“Ash, we have to remove the sheets…” He trailed off. “And um, and your clothes too.”

She looked at him, eyes blazing. Was this some kind of joke?! Did he put the beetles on her…?

“Whatever, fine! Take everything, I don’t fucking care!” She hissed, hobbling on her good leg to the nearby wall and leaning on it. Imre made quick work of the sheets while she idly swatted at the beetles on her skin, shivering at the sight of her skin quite literally crawling.

Imre approached her delicately, pausing for a moment as if he didn’t know where to begin. She let out a low growl and he jumped, hands rushing to her sides to ease her out of her shirt. She could tell that the days of not showering had made her less than appealing, but that was not her biggest concern.

“Hurry up!” She hissed, startling poor Imre. He nodded apologetically, unhooking her bra and sliding it over her arms, taking great care with her broken one. The beetles began to fall off with her clothes, scurrying away into the cracks and crevices of the walls and floor. Eventually she stood naked in front of him, eyes dripping with malice and hate.

“Um, I’ll be right back…” He mumbled, folding her clothes into neat little piles. She merely grunted in response. As soon as he left the room she hobbled back into bed, giving it a thorough check to make sure no further insects had infiltrated her space, and laid back down.

Imre returned with a damp washcloth in his hands and Ash briefly recoiled at the thought, but… She was quite itchy from the bugs. He came closer and gingerly wiped her down with the rag, taking great care around her more tender areas. _Eugh._

“I’m so sorry, Ash…” He whimpered. “Do you feel any more bugs?”

“No.” She muttered. Imre smiled.

“Good… Ash, I’m sorry.” He sighed, “I just want you to be comfortable. And safe.”

That was a loaded statement. Comfortable? Safe? He broke her leg!

“I’m cold.” She said flatly, watching Imre’s eyes scan her body before forcing himself to look away.

“I have some spare clothes… I’ll be right back.”

He retired to another room once again, and Ash briefly wondered how his clothes would fit on her. He was much taller than she, of course, but her weight was distributed way differently, localized almost completely in her stomach and chest. Imre came back sooner than expected with a large sweater and a pair of boxer shorts, something she’d wear around the house herself. She found herself smiling. He knew her well already.

He dressed her slowly, intimately, carefully cradling her shattered limbs and guiding them into the new clothing. She sighed contentedly. _Glad that’s over…_

“You’re never gonna let me go, are you Imre?” Ash said suddenly, finding a genuine smile on her face. Whether it was a bitter smile or a kind one was beyond her. Imre didn’t respond, as was typical for himself. She already knew he wouldn’t let her go.

_Why am I alright with that?_

She looked at him and sighed. If this was her fate… She might as well go the whole mile. It could be worse. He was attractive, attentive, loving, a good cook, semi-stable for a complete maniac like himself…

“It’s okay, Imre.” She sighed. “I like it here. I just… I want to be able to live normally with you. No more broken bones.”

Imre lit up.

“Oh, édesem! Thank you so much for giving me a chance…” He paused for a moment. “I trust you, Ash. I don’t think you’ll run away.”

“I won’t.” Ash said firmly. “I’ve always wanted someone who cares about me and while your methods are… Unconventional, I appreciate everything you do. And I want to be with you.”

It wasn’t a lie… She had developed feelings for him over time. That happened easily for her, but… Imre was different. He reciprocated. He loved her. That was enough. He sat beside her on the bed and took her into his arms, planting a chaste kiss on her cheek, and for a moment she felt right at home.

“You’ll never have to do anything again, édesem!” He chirped. “I can cook for you, I’ll help you heal, I’ll—”

“Easy there, tiger,” Ash chuckled, placing a hand on his back. “Let’s get to know each other more, yeah? And for the record, I like being the domestic one. You aren’t the only one who can cook.”

Imre laughed, taking her hand in his and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. His eyes were so genuine and sweet that she almost forgot about the sledgehammer incident.

“I love you…” He breathed, nuzzling against her palm. Ash closed her eyes.

“I have love in my heart for you, Imre.” She said. “I’ve been hurt in the past, so I take a little longer to say… That. Do you understand?”

He nodded slowly, appearing to nearly choke on the information as he processed it. But she had to set boundaries, lest he get out of control. If this was her fate, she wanted some say in it.

“I should get some rest.” Ash said firmly, pulling her hand away from his face. “We can talk more in the morning. About us.”

Imre’s eyes lit up again. He looked like a kid on Christmas.

“And I’ll make us all breakfast!” He chirped. “Oh édesem, I promise I’ll give you a wonderful life here… You won’t ever regret this.”

“I know.” She said, moreso to soothe herself than him. “We’ll talk later. Sleep tight.”

“Sleep tight, Ash.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why get ready for work when you can simply write fanfiction


	5. Fervor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ash and Imre have a discussion.

Ash awoke to the smell of bacon and a searing pain in her head.

She nearly wretched on the spot, from which sensation she was not sure. She’d have to have a talk with Imre about getting her her pills back. Not to mention the nicotine cravings… Gods, she would take eight dicks up the ass for a cigarette right now.

She almost called Imre, but thought better of it. It would only make her head worse. It currently felt ready to explode… She wasn’t sure how much more of the pain she could take. It was like someone had lodged an icepick through her eye socket. She missed her life, too. Listening to music, playing video games, working… All things she very well may never get to do again. She missed her friends dearly, especially her best friend. Sarah had to be worried sick. And her mother…

A tear fell down her ivory cheek. And another. And another. She sobbed pathetically at the mere thought of her mother, worried sick about her wellbeing. She probably visited her apartment. She probably filed a police report. How many days had she been stuck here…?

“Imre!” She sobbed, breaking through the pain. “Imre, we need to talk! Please!”

He came rushing in, an unidentified substance on the beige apron he wore. It looked like egg. His smile disappeared quickly when he saw her tears.

“What’s wrong, Ash?” Imre said gently, rushing to her bedside. Ash sniffled and looked at him past watery eyes.

“I-I need my phone,” she whimpered. “I need my momma to know that I’m okay…”

Imre frowned, worry lines appearing on his forehead. He began his usual habit of looking everywhere but at her.

“Imre, please! You can even check the text before I send it!” She cried, sobs wracking her broken body. “I have to tell my mom and best friend that I’m okay, else they might come and take me from you!”

He stared at her for a long while, eyes full of trouble and worry. Eventually he cast his gaze down, and… Pulled her phone from his pocket.

“I get to write the text,” Imre said as sternly as he could muster. “And you can look over it.”

Ash paused. Her mother would be dumb enough to fall for a fake text, but Sarah… Sarah knew better.

“Fine.” She said cautiously. And so Imre wrote, big fingers stabbing clumsily at her tiny phone screen until he had made something legible. He turned the screen towards her and her heart broke at the sight of dozens of worried messages from her mother.

**Hey mom, I’m so sorry for not texting back. I fell on my bike and broke my arm and leg** **☹** **I’ve been in the hospital recovering. I’ll talk to you soon. I’m safe.**

If someone knew her well enough they’d squint at “her” choice of words, but it would definitely suffice for Ash’s mother.

“You’ll want me to write the one to my best friend.” She insisted. “She’s a psych, she’ll know for a fact I’m not the one behind the keyboard.”

Imre eyed her for a long while, searching for any signs of malice or trickery, before shakily handing her the phone. She typed furiously.

**bitch I have had the worst last few days omfg I broke my fucking arm nd leggy riding my bike like a DUNKASS I’ll let u kno whats happening later the meds they put me on got me sleepin like 22 hrs a day. Love u binch**

Imre blinked stupidly at the text.

“Is this… English?” He asked, holding the phone further away and squinting at it. Ash chortled.

“It’s how I text Sarah” she explained. “Just send it so she doesn’t freak out, please.”

Imre sighed. “You’re a lot of trouble, kis medve.”

“I’m worth it.” She breathed, nudging her face closer to his. “I swear.”

He sucked in a breath, pupils expanding at the sight of her so close to him. Ash moved her good arm to gently caress his cheek, eliciting a tired sigh from her partner.

“Imre!” Came an exasperated voice from the kitchen. “A szalonna elégett!!”

“ ** _Átok_** ” Imre hissed, shooting into a standing position and out of the room. Ash blinked. What the hell were him and Marcell on about..?

Imre arrived again about five minutes later with a tray of food, this time a simple spread of bacon, eggs, and toast. Ash subtly gagged at the smell of the charred bacon. The fatty meat was bad enough on its own, let alone burnt… But she was hungry.

“This is so nice! The people I love most, all eating together with me.” Imre chirped, clasping his hands together. Ash couldn’t help but smile.

“Feketebb, mint a lelkem.” Marcell grumbled, chomping on a piece of bacon. Imre seemed to get a kick out of this, chuckling and clapping a hand on Marcell’s back.

“Jó vicc!” Imre chided.

Ash found herself having to choke down the bacon, but it was rather nice when mixed together with the eggs and smushed onto the toast. Imre seemed to notice her hesitance.

“Everything alright, szép?” He asked. Ash felt a pang of guilt as she stared into his puppy dog eyes. She swallowed what was in her mouth.

“It’s perfect.” She said, voice cracking unconvincingly. Imre didn’t look like he believed her.

“Tell me, egér.” He soothed, running his gloved fingertips through her hair. Ash sighed. Was it risky to simply say she couldn’t eat bacon? She still needed to learn what things set him off…

“I um, I really don’t enjoy bacon… I-I’ll eat this but—”

“No no, it’s fine!” Imre said immediately, standing to grab her plate despite her protests. “I’m so sorry! I-it won’t happen again. Please, tell me what else you don’t like.”

Ash paused for a minute. It would honestly be easier for her to say what she _did_ like…

“Um… Bacon, pork chops, pudding, chocolate milk, drinks that aren’t cold… Really spicy food, regular pizza, Italian beef… Uh—”

“Mit eszik?” Marcell barked, eliciting a nervous laugh from Imre, who gently scraped the bacon from her plate. Ash nodded thankfully.

“I also prefer my eggs with a little sriracha, if you ever have it.” She cooed, pressing a soft kiss to Imre’s cheek before he stood. His face burned bright red and he sputtered for a moment.

“O-of course, right, sure…” He stumbled upon his words. Ash smiled and continued eating.

Once they were done, Marcell (presumably) offered to take their trays, likely to escape the awkward silence in the room, leaving Imre and Ash alone. Imre began to get up to leave again, but Ash gently tugged him back onto the bed.

“I want to talk to you.” She said with a smile. “We don’t know much about one another, do we?”

Imre swallowed thickly, nervously scanning her form. “I suppose not.”

“Well… I’m 21, a writer, and I usually work two retail jobs… But I suppose that’s out the window at the moment. I love animals, video games, and all things beauty. My favorite color is red and I actually really love raccoons and foxes, so those,” she pointed to the two stuffed animals in the corner. “Are much appreciated.”

Imre smiled nervously, a blush dusting his cheeks. He wrung his hands together.

“Tell me about yourself, Imre.”

Another pause.

“Well… I-I’m 36, I work at the local coffee shop… I do taxidermy on the side… I also like animals, but I suppose in different ways than you do… Um… I like to cook… I-I’ve never really done this before, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay!” Ash chirped. “You did just fine. You look very good for 36, by the way. Never would have guessed!”

Imre sputtered again, cheeks turning fully red at this point. He looked at her and… His eyes. They spoke a language, an expression she could not read. Somewhere between lust and love, happiness and anger. Ash opened her mouth to speak but suddenly she could not breathe. She looked down to see a hand wrapped around her throat and she couldn’t stop a primal moan from escaping her lips. Imre jerked back at this and something dissolved within him, some tension, something snapped.

“I…” He breathed. “I’m sorry, Ash…”

“N-no it’s okay, um, I’m sorry… I made things weird and—”

“I’m gonna go check on Marcell.”

He scurried out of the room once more, the door slamming shut behind him. Ash felt around her neck, reveling in the lingering warmth of his hand. That was… nice.

She wanted _more_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used Bing translate (its better than google translate!) for the Hungarian so Im terribly sorry if it's bad/off in any way! Things are heating up with our dear Imre tho >:3


	6. Desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imre helps Ash shower.

“Looks like you’re getting a little better, Ash…” Imre trailed off. She sighed, placing a soft hand upon his own. 

“Please, just let me heal.” She spoke gently. “I won’t go anywhere. Please, trust me as much as I trust you. I want us to be… normal. At least somewhat.”

Taking a shaky breath, Imre nodded. He got to work at re-wrapping her leg. He’d informed her that it had been about two weeks since she first fell into his care, and that broken bones took around six weeks to heal. She’d always been blessed with rapid healing, however, recovering from a gruesome dog bite to the face in a matter of weeks with no scars to be seen as a child. She was never sick for long, and any bruises or cuts she had lasted no longer than a couple of days. This would be a piece of cake so long as she continued her bed rest.

They’d learned a lot about each other in the last two weeks. Imre loved shadow puppets and coffee, and had already lost both his parents. He cooked a mean stroganoff, and surprisingly didn’t cook a lot of Hungarian food, as he “liked to have a variety”. They even discussed life goals, finding that they mutually adored the idea of a big family. Things were going well, despite Imre’s clinginess or occasional need to wrap a hand around her throat until she saw stars. For some reason the latter only happened after she complimented him… Which she intentionally did often.

“Hey, uh, I’ve been meaning to ask… Can you help me shower?”

His face shot up, eyes wide and staring fearfully into her own.

“You’ve already seen me naked!”

“It was dark!”

Ash groaned, letting her aching head loll to the side. Imre sighed shakily. He stood.

“J-just… Hurry, okay? I’ll do whatever I can to help—”

“I’ll need you to be in there with me. I can’t stand on one leg.”

Imre looked ready to combust. She looked at him with pleading eyes. Normally she’d hate the idea of someone else watching her at such a vulnerable time, but this was different. She genuinely needed help. She couldn’t wash her mass of poofy hair with one arm, and she could not carry her hefty body on one leg.

He made quick work of waterproofing her makeshift casts, wrapping them oh so carefully in plastic wrap to preserve the gauze.

“Gyerünk…” Imre grumbled, hoisting her over his shoulder with ease. Ash squeaked. She weighed 200 pounds, how in the Sam hell was he carrying her like a sack of potatoes?!

For the first time, Ash saw outside of her tiny bedroom. The rest of the house was dark, all unnecessary lights switched off. There were multiple doors in the narrow corridor, one leading to a fairly spacious bathroom. _How the hell is he paying rent on this house if he works at a coffee shop?!_

He set her down slowly, giving her time to rest upon her good leg. She leaned against the countertop and cringed. Imre stood there for a short while, awkwardly wringing his hands, before gripping the hem of Ash’s shirt. He eased her out of it, eyes looking everywhere but into hers. She’d somehow lost weight since coming into his care, be it the lack of fast food or the fact that he only gave her water to drink. Looking at herself in the mirror, for once, she didn’t necessarily mind what she saw. Her stomach had finally receded to a point where her breasts protruded in front of it, and her narrow hips were no longer swallowed under a layer of extra fat.

His hands had a certain roughness to them when dealing with her shorts. It was enticing and she didn’t mind it one bit. Soon enough she stood naked in front of him, as vulnerable as ever under his lingering eyes and erotic touch. Heat flooded her body at the feeling of being underneath him… She felt a sick, nauseating sense of lust overflow and capsize like a doomed ship in the heady, breathy waters of Imre’s intense gaze. She was set ablaze and he held the gasoline and match.

“Your turn.” She whispered, trailing a finger down Imre’s chest. His breath caught in his throat. She hooked a finger under one of the loops on his overalls and was instantly shoved back into the sink, spine grinding painfully against the granite. For a reason that escaped her, she moaned, a quiet keen leading him to her like a shark to fresh blood. His big hands gripped her and he drug his nose and mouth along her neck, pressing his lower half against hers and _gods, fuck, holy hell and god damn she was his._

“I’m waiting.” Ash said breathlessly, core aching and throbbing under the slightest touch. Imre stared at her with that same intense expression in his eyes, unreadable and too familiar all at once. He hooked his thumbs under the straps holding his overalls up and slid them down and she noticed he was shaking, be it with fear or that unintelligible, borderline inhuman emotion his eyes read as they pierced her very soul. Either way, she used her good leg to nudge the thick material further down his body. He hesitated with his top for a short while.

“I-I don’t… Always look like this” He said shakily. “I’ve gained a little weight and—”

“Imre.” Ash hissed, voice thick with desperation. “I’ve never been this turned on in my life. I need you to do _something_. I don’t care how you look… You’re perfect.”

His face was beet red at this point. In a fit of (presumably) lust, he captured her lips in his, a hungry, guttural moan escaping his throat. She scraped her nails down his back, throwing her good leg around his waist and bringing his body into hers.

“Szükségem van rád” He panted against her neck, pressing hot kisses against the tender flesh. “Most, mindent rólad—Ash…”

“The shower, Imre” She panted, tugging his hair. “In the shower. I want to be clean first… Please.”

Something cleared from his eyes, as if he was coming out of a trance, and he absently loosened his grip on her. Imre stood back as if collecting the scene in front of him again and stepped awkwardly to the shower. The rest of his clothes were shucked off and—

Oh.

_Oh gods he’s hung like a fucking horse._

Unable to pry her eyes from Imre’s cock bobbing in front of him as he adjusted the water temperature, Ash felt her eyes practically bugging out of her head. He was probably damn near the length of her forearm, and about the width of a can of Redbull, which… was probably only a viable measurement for herself. She finally looked away just in time for him to snap his gaze back at her.

“Mi,” He said gruffly, wrapping his arms around her midsection and hoisting her into the shower. “Gondoskodni fogok rólad.”

She was placed delicately under a stream of warm water, a little too cool for her liking, but that was understandable. He was already making her feel unbearably hot. Picking up a bar of soap and a loofah, Imre scrubbed her down ever so slowly and gently. He took care with each little curve and crevice of her body, all while using his free hand to support her injured side.

She watched him past half-lidded eyes, breaths heavy and hitching occasionally when he went over her tender areas. Occasionally he’d look up apologetically, only to look away again to focus on the task at hand. He came to learn the map of her body like the back of his hand, each expanse of flesh a new subject for him to lovingly memorize. Eventually she was clean, and rinsed, and he gazed needily into the deep waters of her eyes and mouthed something unintelligible. He grabbed her broken leg and held it to his side.

“Imre… I—” She was cut off by a surprised moan catching in her throat as he slid a finger along her slit. Her head lolled back and she exhaled, letting him slowly explore her folds. Eventually he lost patience and found his way inside, eliciting a needy cry from his partner. She held on to the shower wall for dear life, her one good leg threatening to buckle under the hot pressure of his finger pumping inside her. There was no way she’d last long.

“Olyan törékeny... tehát rászoruló miattam…” Imre panted, thrusting another finger inside. She yelped at the sudden fullness.

“Imre, I-I’m not gonna last like this, please—oh _fuck_ ” Ash practically screamed at the feeling of his fingers inside of her, playing her heat like a god damn fiddle, drawing her closer and closer to the edge with each perfectly-timed thrust up into her most sensitive spot. Her pleas dove headfirst into unintelligible cries and mumbles, hips bucking into the sensation of his calloused fingers roughly rubbing her insides.

“Imre~” She breathed, falling back against the shower wall. “Ple-ease I-I ne-ed yo-u so bad-lyyyyyy—”

Finally he curled his fingers just right and she gave into him, letting him fuck her into a slow, sweet sexual suicide, coming undone right in his arms and crying his name like a spell, chanting over and over _Imre, Imre, Imre…_

He pulled his dripping fingers from her cunt once her body was finally done convulsing, eyes wide as if he couldn’t believe himself. She fell into his chest, struggling to catch her breath, and found herself wiping tears of ecstasy from her eyes. 

“Honey…” Ash panted, “you’re amazing…”

Imre gripped her throat, much gentler this time, if only to force her gaze into his.

“How amazing, cica?”

Ash grinned.

“Let me show you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All credit for this chapter goes to the "Imre: Dear Rabbit" playlist by redkissesandhearts on Spotify. So much raw sexual energy... My audiophilic self had an amazing time writing this ;)


	7. Cinnamon Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ash convinces Imre to give her a little freedom.

Wiping the sin from her mouth, Ash looked up at a very flustered Imre.

“Does that answer the question?” She crooned, trailing a finger along his thigh.

“Wha—oh! Oh, yes, god yes.” Imre panted. He made a sad attempt at standing straight, immediately reverting back to using the sink as leverage. Ash chuckled.

“Give your legs some time to stop shaking first.” She purred. “When you do, though, I could use some help up.”

“Ah!” Imre gasped, looking down at her disheveled form sat awkwardly on the floor with her broken leg splayed out. “Szerelem, I’m so sorry! Here.”

He shakily bent down and lifted her by the underarms, once more hoisting her across his shoulder. She grunted as her bad arm smacked against his neck, but decided it wasn’t worth complaining about. She still needed to figure out what his limits were… But he should be fine right now. Nobody should be cranky post-orgasm.

She was placed once again in her bed, blankets tucked lovingly to her waist. Imre turned to make his usual awkward exit from the dark room, but Ash grabbed his arm. 

“Imre.” She said, pouting. “I wanna talk. Don’t you want to get to know me better?”

He paused. Did he… not care?

“I already love you, édesem,” he said cautiously. “Is that not enough?”

Ash frowned. Was this his first time courting someone…?

“No, Imre.” She said firmly. “Part of loving someone is knowing their ins and outs. A big part of it is how they make you feel, of course, but you also have to know them down to their core.”

Imre worried his lip between his teeth for a long while, doing his usual bit of looking everywhere but at her. He eventually met her concerned gaze.

“I do want to know everything about you. But all this time we’ve shared together… I feel like I already know ev—”

“What’s my favorite color, Imre?”

He paused.

“What?”

“My favorite color? What is it?”

Imre stared blankly at her.

“… I see your point.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, what do you want to know first?”

Imre paused. Ash was beginning to get the idea that he was as socially inept as she was… Maybe even worse.

“What even is your f—”

“Red, Imre. It’s red.”

He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

“See, I knew that! Because of the bangs! And… The underwear you were wearing when I found you…”

“Imre.” She snorted, giving him a gentle shove. Yeah, he was definitely worse than she was. He looked around the room as if to garner inspiration for what to ask her.

“What did you do for a living? Before… you know…”

_Before you kidnapped me?_ She thought, but thought better of saying it out loud.

“I worked at a beauty supply store and a clothing store in the mall.” Ash responded.

They went back and forth like this for longer than she was expecting, Imre asking about Ash’s dysfunctional family, her chronic pain, favorite foods, and her upbringing. He ended with a question that caught her rather off guard.

“What can I do to make your life here happier, édesem?”

Ash blinked. Was that something he genuinely cared about…? She wrung her hands for a long while, trying to think of a gentle way to word her requests.

“My biggest thing is communication with my friends and family…” She said slowly, choosing not to look him in the eye. “You already know I want to stay here, but I can’t give them up. We could make up a story together.”

She swallowed thickly, nerves rising in her stomach.

“Um, I also really need my medication. It’s at home, of course… And nicotine, too. That’d be great…” She trailed off. “Um, basically what I’m saying is that I’d like to go home and collect some things. And have access to my phone.”

Imre sighed and she finally looked at him, finding great conflict in his eyes. His shoulders sagged as if he was accepting defeat; maybe he thought that, if she did betray him, he would deserve it? Maybe he genuinely trusted her, which… He should. Be it due to Stockholm or her desperate need to be loved, she didn’t want to leave. She just wanted normalcy.

“Until I know I can trust you fully…” He began, making her heart drop to her stomach. She cut him off in a fit of desperation.

“We’ll get you an iPhone, too!” Ash squeaked, catching him off guard. “You can set it up with my Apple ID and you’ll be able to see every one of my texts and calls!”

Imre blinked at her and for a brief moment she wondered if this man even had access to a mobile phone, let alone understood the mechanics of one. He looked to the side.

“We’ll start with letting you get your things.” He said firmly, a hint of fear in his voice. “I’ll drive you there, and you can get as much as you need to make this room yours. Then we’ll see about your phone… Okay?”

Ash sighed in relief. It was a start. Being in excruciating pain 24/7 was not fun at all and her medication was bound to help her with that, and on top of being able to have her possessions, she was content with meeting him halfway like this.

“Whatever you want, hon.” She cooed, reaching her good arm out for a hug. A warm smile graced Imre’s tired face and he scooped her into a kind embrace. She nuzzled against the hair on his chin, delivering tiny pecks to the skin around it. This was definitely a start. She felt much better than she did before.

This was their first step towards normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its been awhile 8^) longer chapter coming soon!


	8. Let me Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ash moves in, thinking this will bring her to the normalcy she craves. Imre has other plans. (tw for injury outside of typical CMK nature)

Standing in the doorway to her studio apartment, Ash had never felt less at home.

Imre loomed over her shoulder the entire time, under the guise of wanting to help her walk. He had been kind enough to buy her crutches under the condition that he would control when she used them, but she was painfully unaware of how exactly to use them just yet, so she found herself nearly tipping over quite frequently.

“Just tell me what you want me to pack up, édesem.” He said tiredly. She pointed to a stack of empty boxes in the corner.

“Boxes are over there.” Ash said. “We’ll get started with my bedroom stuff.”

Over the course of the next few hours Imre loaded his car with boxes full of stuffed animals, clothes, video game consoles and cartridges, makeup (which he was astounded by the sheer amount of), and miscellaneous décor. With each passing box Ash found herself feeling more and more uneasy, but she saw no way of getting out of this. There was a block of knives in the kitchen, but he had the advantage of his height and working limbs over her. She was on the second floor so hopping out a window probably wasn’t a safe option. She could simply lock the door after he exited to his car, but she had no phone, so she’d be unable to call authorities. Plus… She liked being cared for. She didn’t have to work or pay rent, nor cook for herself or feel lonely. She simply had to tread lightly on Imre’s seemingly sensitive feelings and gain his trust.

Finally the last box was secured and Imre came back up to gather Ash herself. He wrapped an arm around her bad side and she hobbled clumsily alongside him, trying her best to use the crutches as extra leverage. His touch felt right. _He_ felt right. She was almost certain that she was making the safest decision for her current situation… Almost.

Shaking away the lingering doubt in her mind, Ash climbed into the passenger seat of Imre’s car. The drive to his home didn’t take very long, she noted, so he must live close by. They spent some time unpacking and arranging her things.

“Mi ez az egész?” Came a familiar voice from the doorway. Imre looked up from piling up Ash’s stuffed animals in a corner.

“Ah, Marcell!” He chided. “Ash beköltözött!”

Marcell raised a brow at him and briefly shot an unkind look at Ash. She blinked.

“Ennyire bízol benne?” The younger man said gruffly, looking unimpressed. Ash shuffled her feet a bit, feeling uncomfortable.

“I know we don’t know each other too well, Marcell” she began. “But I wanted this. I promise you can trust me with your uncle. I know you two are very close.”

Marcell looked unmoved. With a huff in Imre’s direction, he walked away, shutting the door to his room. Imre sighed.

“Bocsánat… Ash… He’s going to take some time to warm up to you. I hope you’ll give him a chance.”

Ash bit her lip. She didn’t really have a choice… That was becoming a pattern in her new life.

“Of course.” She forced herself to say. “He seems sweet, deep down.”

Imre looked a bit perturbed by this. He opted to change the subject.

“How is your medication helping you?” He asked.

“Great. I feel a lot better… Well, my head does.” She chuckled, eyeing her leg. Imre cast his gaze away guiltily. “It’s in the past, Imre. We’re gonna grow from it.”

He nodded slowly.

“Well… It’s been a long day. I’m going to head to sleep.” Imre said, earning a quiet huff from Ash.

“Sleep next to me?” She begged, clasping her hands together. Imre jolted.

“I… Me?”

“Yes you!” Ash snorted, shifting herself to one edge of the bed. Imre stared stupidly at her.

“I… Um… Yeah. Of course. Okay.” 

He climbed in awkwardly next to her and Ash stared at him.

“Are you going to put on pajamas?”

“ _Huh?_ Oh, oh god, yeah, sorry—” He clamored back out of bed and out of the room, leaving Ash to sit alone in the dark. He was gone for gods know how long, and she was beginning to believe he’d abandoned her, but he finally came back wearing boxer shorts and a white t-shirt, hands shyly behind his back.

_Fuck._

_He looked incredible._

Eyeing the subtle curves of his body, Ash watched him climb back into bed once again. He shimmied under the covers and turned away from her, laying as close to the edge of the bed as possible to keep a gap between himself and Ash. She quirked a brow and situated herself so that her good arm and leg draped around him, and her body pressed against his.

“W-what are you—” Imre sputtered, tensing beneath her.

“Relax, silly goose! We’re just cuddling.” She laughed, pulling him in closer. Imre shuddered and she began to think he’d really never been touched in his life until she came along. She looked down and oh—

Oh he was _hard._

With a devilish grin, Ash slid a hand down to the soft expanse of skin where his leg met his groin. Imre damn near jumped out of his skin and she shushed him, nuzzling into his neck.

“Do you want me to help you out?” She cooed, fingers dancing along the length of his clothed dick. She gave it a gentle squeeze and—

Found herself instantly shoved into the mattress, one hand wrapped around her throat while the other brandished a knife.

So _that’s_ why his hands were behind his back.

“Imre!” She cried, desperately kicking her good leg. “H-hey, I was just—I thought—I—”

“Nem gondolkodtál, kedvesem.” Imre breathed, dragging the knife along her arm. She shivered. What was it about intimacy that set him off?!

“I-I just wanted to be close to you…” Ash whimpered. “I admit that I was a little forward but—STOP!”

He held the knife in his fist and aimed straight for her heart, saved only by her jerking out of the way so that the object plunged into her shoulder instead. She howled out in pain, hot tears flooding her cheeks.

“Imre, you _love_ me, you don’t want to kill me!” She panted through heavy sobs. “I-I’ll be more careful next time, please, please don’t do this! I just want to be with you!”

Be it by catching him off guard or her words penetrating his soul, Imre stopped. She threw him off of the bed and yanked the knife from her shoulder, aiming it in his direction.

“Go to bed, Imre.” She sobbed, voice shaking. “I don’t want to hurt any more, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

He looked at her with that familiar emotion in his eyes, somewhere between lust and hatred, and stood. For a moment she feared he would attack again, but instead, Imre retired to his bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Letting the knife drop onto the mattress, Ash clutched her injury and sobbed. Why would he hurt her this way if he loved her so much? Was she doing something wrong? Was he lying about how he felt? No matter what the answer was, she intended to find out. Something had to be going on in Imre’s head that caused him to lash out whenever she came on to him.

All she wanted was to love him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls listen to Let me Love You by Kobra and the Lotus its literally ImreAsh--


	9. Pillangó

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He broke her. She intends to fix herself.

Ash awoke to the sound of the door creaking open. She tensed.

“Go away…” She grumbled, softly enough so that only she could hear herself. A tray of food was set on her lap, this time a veggie omelet and… A blueberry Redbull.

She perked up. She’d brought her guilty pleasure from home, but didn’t actually expect him to give it to her. Stopping herself before she could reach for the cold can, she shot a glare at a very shaken-looking Imre.

“Is this your way of apologizing?” Ash hissed, snatching the can from its place and cracking it open. She reached into the bedside table and began sorting her medications.

“I… M-maybe? Is it working?” Imre shuffled a little. She rolled her eyes.

“No. You tried to kill me, Imre!” Her medication went down smoothly this time, six pills in one gulp as she was used to. “I have a fucking knife wound in my shoulder! My shoulder connected to my _broken arm_!”

She waved her butter knife accusingly at him, earning a flinch from her partner.

“Szerelem… I genuinely don’t know what comes over me sometimes.” He sighed. “I just love you so much and it overwhelms me. I think about you, and how much I love you, and how perfect you are… And it drives me insane.”

Ash took an angry bite from her omelet. Something wasn’t adding up.

“If you love someone, you don’t try to kill them.” She growled, voice dripping with malice. “You know you can’t be with me if I’m dead, right?”

Imre cringed at her harsh tone. He wrung his hands together, chewing on his bottom lip.

“I-I do know that, but I can’t control myself—”

“Well figure it out!” Ash retorted. “If you love me so much then the least you can do is let me live!”

Another unreadable expression crossed Imre’s face—something mixed with worry and regret. Clearly he wasn’t expecting a fighter out of her… But did she not deserve to live? It was a confusing situation; he loved her, yet he hurt her so badly, injuring her to the point she needed him to simply move around.

“Look, Imre.” She said firmly. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Either you stop hurting me and let me heal and live my life with you, or you keep hurting me and I give up on you ‘til one of us cracks and kills the other. And I don’t think either of us want that.”

Imre stared at her with that same damn expression on his face, worried and regretful and like he was holding something back, or like the weight of the world was somehow on _his_ shoulders. But he didn’t protest. Instead he wordlessly exited the room, closing the door quietly as he always did.

Ash felt… empty.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Imre sat with his head in his hands.

_Why can’t you just control yourself…?_

His own thoughts made him cringe. Why couldn’t he be normal? Didn’t Ash deserve a typical life? The light was fading from her eyes—gone was the girl with hopes and dreams. She had turned into a disheveled corpse of a woman, all dead eyes and pale skin and fragile bones. She reminded him of his first taxidermy piece. He’d found the most beautiful red admiral butterfly on a hike, and so he kept it in his empty water bottle until he got home. When he did, it had long since suffocated, and he was left with a fragile, delicate, tender little corpse to preserve… But his hands were big and clumsy in comparison, so he tore legs, shredded wings, and cut its poor body until his beloved first “project” was nothing but a horrifying display of massacre pinned terribly to a spare plank of rotting wood.

She was his red admiral butterfly. Not a monarch nor a viceroy like what was common to see in the states, rather something special, something beautiful, something priceless.

And just like his first red admiral butterfly, he suffocated and broke her.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  


Ash found herself missing Imre whenever he was gone.

He was, on the surface, a good man with a dark twist. His hands were so gentle until they wrapped around her neck, palm pressing hard on her jugular. His words were so kind until he was apologizing, over and over, for tearing down what little trust they had all over again. His love was like a dream until he turned around and made it a waking nightmare.

She tossed and turned in bed, unable to find any solace or sleep. Her thoughts were plagued with images of him, face twisted in agony as he brought the sledgehammer down onto her leg, near writhing in pain with her as his knife, both real and metaphorical, pierced her tender flesh. She found herself crying over a man she’d only known for a matter of weeks.

_Not the first time…_

He came quietly into her room, aura unreadable as usual. She masked her sniffles with a pillow.

“I know you’re crying…” Imre said gently. _Fuck._

Ash sat up and blinked at him past the fresh pool of tears that clouded her eyes. She sniffed.

“What’s your point?”

“I wanted to apologize. Genuinely.”

He lumbered over to the bed, sitting carefully on the vacant side. She shuffled further away and a pang of guilt washed over his face.

“I know what I’m doing is wrong.” He sighed. “I want to get better… But I don’t know any other way. I get so overwhelmed by these feelings for you and I… I black out, and when I wake back up there’s a knife in your shoulder.”

She stared coldly at him, brows furrowed and posture as still as a watching vulture. He continued.

“I just wanted to let you know that. But I don’t have any ideas of how to get better, Ash. I don’t know how to maintain control of myself. So… If you think of anything, please let me know.”

…

That was it?

She curled a lip at him. That was his idea of an apology?! Leaving her with his dirty laundry? She huffed. Typical man. Seeming satisfied with himself, Imre exited once again, leaving Ash to boil on her own.

Despite her anger, she found herself wondering. What _could_ he do? Therapy wasn’t an option, because no sane person would keep “I kidnapped and torture my girlfriend” confidential. He had to find some way to get these intense feelings of love and adoration out in a healthy manner. Could he put it into his taxidermy work? Could he take up art? What about music?

…

Or what if…

What if he still _could_ take things out on her physically?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus points if u can figure out what Ash's solution is 8)


	10. Tear You Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ash gives Imre a solution.

Imre came in the next morning with his usual tray, this time toting a bowl of oatmeal loaded with fruit. Ash eyed it hungrily. It couldn’t hurt to eat while she was talking about such an intimate matter, right?

Taking a happy, berry-laden bite of the oatmeal, Ash beckoned Imre to her bedside. He shuffled over with his hands clasped together, looking like a child awaiting instruction.

“I’ve been thinking,” she began. “About what you said.”

He perked up.

“I-I wasn’t expecting you to actually… Try and salvage this. Us, I mean.” He said sadly. Ash smiled.

“It all depends on how willing you are to… Step outside your comfort zone.” She said. He looked at her intently and she took another mouthful to contemplate her next words.

“I don’t mind _all_ pain, Imre.” Ash said slowly, eyeing him to gauge his reaction. He looked at her blankly.

“What I’m saying is… If you want to hurt me in a controlled environment, it would be okay.”

Imre looked terribly, hopelessly lost. She sighed.

“I’m saying,” she set her forgotten tray to the side. “That if you don’t injure me beyond repair, and with consent, then I think we can reach a happy medium.”

Imre folded his hands in his lap, searching her face for any kind of a hint. She raised her brows. He still seemed lost.

“Imre, I’m saying you can hurt me, like, in a sexy way.”

He sputtered, eyes going wide. She smacked a hand against her forehead.

“What does that mean?!” He shrilled. There had to be some way to salvage this situation…

“It means,” Ash sat up, bringing her face close to his. “You can smack me,” she caressed his face. “You can choke me,” she brought a hand to his chest. “You can pull my hair,” she stroked a line from his wide chest down to his thigh. “And you can fuck yourself into me until I’m begging for mercy. Whatever you want.”

She nuzzled his face, nipping at his earlobe. “Take my body, not my life.”

Imre stared wide-eyed at her, mouth slightly agape. He was trembling slightly and for a moment, Ash thought she’d broken the poor man…

Until he gripped her face in his hand and slammed her into the mattress.

She gasped at the suddenness of his actions but reveled in the feeling of his fingers digging into her chin and cheeks. His eyes were like a wildfire, rampant with destruction and fully ablaze. With the last bit of self-control he had, he set her breakfast tray on the bedside table, and delivered a firm smack to her cheek.

“ _Imre_ ” She gasped, back arching in pleasure.

“ ** _Fogd be_** ” He growled, leaning mere inches away from her face. “Te egy beteg, mocskos kis kötekedő vagy.”

Ash writhed under him, finding herself unable to control herself yet again around him. 

“Gods, Imre, you turn me on so fucking badly” She panted. He grabbed her by the hair and tugged her face up so that it touched his.

“You’re filthy” He hissed.

“I’m a filthy god damn slut and I need you to fix me, Imre~” Ash cooed, causing him to yank her hair even harder. He stood and tore her clothes off one by one, leaving her as vulnerable as ever to him. She loved how easy it was to break him. He may have the physical control, but it was clear who had control psychologically. She could turn him from a sweet, innocent man into a monster with only a few words and it _did things to her._ He was dangerous in every sense of the word. He was manipulative, sneaky, forceful, and _gods almighty was he nice to look at._

He shoved her back down from her half-seated position and clamored over her, breaths heavy and needy. She egged him on with excited little “yes, yes, yes”es, watching him strip for her like she’d never seen a nude man before. In her mind, she hadn’t, because Imre was the first that made her feel this way when his clothes were off. Hell, he made her feel this way when his clothes were on, too. He was an absolute beast to look at, all muscle and towering height and large expanses of rugged flesh. He loomed over her like he was stalking prey and she became painfully aware that she was soaked to the bone.

His voice rang in her ears as he mumbled incoherently, something about not being experienced, something about wanting to watch her scream. She looked down and was hit with the realization that he was much bigger than she was used to and she prayed that she made it out of this with nothing else broken.

He unceremoniously tapped his length against her wet opening, eyes trained on her to watch for a reaction and his free hand reaching up to squeeze her neck. He entered her with no mercy or consideration for her comfort and she yelped, filled instantly to the hilt, his heady voice telling her that this was her fault, she made him do this, she drove him to become this.

She regretted nothing.

He braced himself on her shoulders, hips making quick work of her lower region. Her broken leg lay limply to the side while the other hooked around his waist. He felt _incredible_ once the initial shock of his girth was over, length pressing over and over exactly where it needed to. His fingers shook as they tightened around her neck and she’d only just realized she wasn’t breathing.

He fucked her mercilessly, no buildup or gentle ministrations to ease her in, just rough, explosive sex that sent her calling for him before they’d even truly begun.

Shivers ran up her spine as the cold, dead touch from his gloves traveled to her sex-swollen breasts, sending her to a new level of ecstasy that she’d not ever known to exist. He looked absolutely gorgeous with that Imre-brand blend of lust and love and hate and adoration in his eyes, lids heavy with fervor. His hips pounded into hers and she cried over and over, tears eventually slipping down her cheeks as her other senses began to fail her. Her ears rang and her vision became tunneled until nothing in the room but Imre existed, until nothing smelled but of him, until she could only feel his hands and his cock, until the entire world fell away and all that was left was her Imre.

Ash screamed out one final time, fingers clawing dark marks into his back, until she came all along his length and his thighs. He was not far behind, eventually tearing his body from hers and jerking himself onto her chest, painting her heaving bosom with his sin.

But he never once removed his hand from her throat.

Be it from pure sexual agony or the lack of oxygen, Ash found herself growing faint. She limply put a hand to the one asphyxiating her, tapping it gently, but he only watched her. Watched until the room became a blur, until the last thing she saw was that god damn look in his eyes.

“Sleep, little one.” He crooned. “We aren’t done yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if this is inaccurate I've never been fucked and choked within inches of my life (unfortunately)

**Author's Note:**

> HOO BOY AM I ENAMORED WITH THIS FUCKING GAME UH.... For the record I AM NOT abandoning LAS to write this I simply saw that nobody had written CMK fanfiction n thought ITS FREE REAL ESTATE so uh... yeah! this is obviously just a prologue so pls don't get bored yet there's so much more to come >:3c


End file.
